


My feet don't dance like they did with you

by all_hail_the_witcher



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Breakups, M/M, albert is suffering, albert just wants race back, and has been hurt before, implications of personal baggage, inspired by Ghost of You by 5sos, its another 2018 fic, its sad go listen, its sad okay, no happy ending, race is a disaster, race is also very impulsive, thats posted on tumblr, the boys are sad tonight, the emotional mess disaster, they all dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_hail_the_witcher/pseuds/all_hail_the_witcher
Summary: It's just another rehearsal, that's what Albert keeps telling himself. The show must go on.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	My feet don't dance like they did with you

The gravity of the situation didn’t hit Albert until he was at rehearsal the following day. The director had paired him with Elmer until she could figure out how to fill the perfectly Race-shaped space in the show.

Albert struck the opening pose for the duet, a crouch in the downstage right corner, and Elmer took Races place, a lunge at center stage. The opening notes of the song began and Albert felt his body go on autopilot, completing every leap, jump, and turn with practiced fluidity.

That is, until about 32 counts into the piece when he and Elmer stood downstage center. This was the moment where they made eye contact and acknowledged each other for the first time during the piece before doing a complicated lift and turn sequence.

Some part of him had known, very deep down, that it would be Elmer’s, not Race’s eyes that he would be meeting. But somehow he was still shocked. Maybe it was the jarring difference of seeing Elmer’s brown eyes as opposed to Races luminous blue ones, or maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t met by Races familiar smell of laundry soap and cheap cologne that caused Alberts brain to short circuit. His dancing become choppy and disjointed. He barely had time to recognize the sudden difference before Elmer morphed into Race and the walls of the studio closed in around them, transporting him back in time to the hallway outside their apartment and the events of the night before.

Albert had just ran up the five flights of stairs to their apartment - curse this old building and its lack of an elevator - and had been rummaging around in his dance bag for his keys when he had been greeted by Race exiting the apartment, not even bothering to lock the door behind him. 

“Hey Race,” Albert had called out, abandoning all hope of finding his keys, “going somewhere?”

Race had turned abruptly and stiffened slightly at the sound of Albert’s voice, almost like a kid who had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Albert hadn’t noticed that originally, but now every detail came back to him, screaming that something was terribly wrong. 

Race had been wearing one of Albert’s old sweatshirts - the big green one he had a penchant for stealing - and a pair of adidas track pants with his sneakers. His big black dance bag had been thrown over his shoulder and he had a navy backpack on. Albert remembered thinking that he must be going to rehearsal.

But, if he had pondered that question a little bit longer he would have remembered that Race never had rehearsal on Thursday nights.

“Hey, Albert.”  _ Albert _ , not Albie or Albo or Al:  _ Albert. _ Race never called him by his actual name. Why hadn’t he picked up on that? “Romeo wanted to rehearse with me tonight for a few hours, not sure when I’ll be back.” His voice sounded fake, scripted, almost. And, of course now, Albert remembered that Romeo was out of town at an audition so there was no way Race was going to meet up with him. 

“Okay,” Albert remembered saying, hand on the door knob ready to go inside, “I’ll see you later.”

Race had turned to walk down the hall, but stopped at the last second. He had turned around, and strode back toward where Albert was standing. Then, without any warning, he threw his arms around Albert’s neck and kissed him softly on the lips. “I love you, Albie,” he had said. “Don’t forget that.”

At the time it had all happened so fast, but now the whole scene played back almost slow motion. Albert could see the tear tracks on Races cheeks and the slight tremor in his hand as he ran his fingers absently through his hair. He could see the glint of sadness mixed with regret and hopelessness in his beautiful blue eyes. If only he had seen it then.

“I love you too, Tony,” Albert had whispered back, opening the door to their apartment and stepping inside with a small wave at his boyfriend. Race had given him his trademark lopsided smirk before wandering back down the hall. 

If only he had known that was the last time he would ever see him.

Back in reality, Albert could feel Elmer’s hand on his arm as they moved into the partnering section. He couldn’t help but notice that it was smooth, not callused like Races. It felt wrong. It all felt wrong.

Elmer caught Albert’s eye for a second. The look he gave him let Albert know he could tell something was off. Albert knew that Elmer would understand if they stopped, but he willed his body to keep moving in time with the music as his brain drifted back to the apartment.

Albert had stepped inside, breathing in the familiar scent of one too many sugared apple candles - courtesy of Race - and thrown his bag on the floor before heading to the kitchen in pursuit of a snack.

He had pulled out several bags of chips from the cabinet and was reaching up into the cupboard for a bowl when he had noticed an old pair of Race’s black canvas ballet shoes with holes in the toes laying on the counter. Race was always leaving his things in strange places, so Albert had been about to move them aside when he saw the note.

That was when everything had come crashing down. 

In present time, Albert could feel Elmer spinning him around and around and around and he thought that that was fitting seeing how his head was spinning from remembering the letter Race had left him.

_ Dear Albert _ , it had said.  _ I’m terribly sorry, but I won’t be coming home tonight. Or tomorrow night, or any night after. You didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, you were the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. But it’s become too much for me. I can’t really put it into words, but I need you to understand that nothing you could have ever said would have changed my mind. _

Elmer stopped spinning him, and Albert flew into a switch split, but he landed weirdly, a sharp pain running up the inside of his ankle. He winced. He had never had a problem with that jump before.

_ I love you, _ the note continued.  _ More than I love myself. Which is why I have to go now, when things are good before I screw everything up and we fight and break up the hard and painful way. I’ve been through that too many times Albie, and I don’t want to fight with you. I’m not very good at this love stuff, no one has ever wanted me in that way before, and I can’t fathom that you would be any different, nor do I have the mental capacity to get broken up with again. _

Albert did a seat roll into a fish flop, but his knees banged the floor painfully. And there was Elmer’s hand, right where Races should have been, pulling him up for the last 8 counts of the dance.

_ I’m leaving you my old ballet shoes. They were what I was wearing the day I met you. Remember that day? It was the first time we ever partnered. It was so magical Albie, we just worked together so well. Everything suddenly made sense the moment we touched. Did you feel that way too? Probably not, I’m being stupid. I knew in that moment I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t. So maybe you’ll consider taking these shoes in place of me, or maybe you’ll throw them out, I don’t care. Whatever happens, Albie, never stop dancing. _

Albert heard the music cut out. He barely registered that he was in his final pose, hugging Elmer, although it should have been Race, it should have been Race,  _ goddamnit.  _ He backed away quickly, like Elmer had burned him.

“Are you okay, Albert?” Elmer asked gently. “That run was a little...rough.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Albert lied, fighting to meet Elmer’s gaze, reminding himself that this was who he had to dance with now because Race wasn’t coming back.  _ Race wasn’t coming back.  _ He was gone, nothing but a mere memory. A memory that would never be brought back. “I’m just not used to dancing with you yet.”

Elmer nodded. “Okay, we can work through it. You’re a good dancer, we’ll make it work.” He offered him a smile, which Albert was hesitant to return.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, looking down at his feet, which were wearing Races worn out ballet shoes. They were a size too big on him, but he could still see the tips of his toes poking through the holes. He remembered when those shoes had begun to get those holes in them and he’d teased race endlessly for it until he had gotten a new pair. Was the reason he had hung onto them so long because they reminded him of when the first met? He forced down tears as he willed himself to work through the dance with Elmer.  _ He’s not coming back. _

Race had told him to never stop dancing.  _ Oh, Race,  _ he thought,  _ how is that even possible when my feet don’t dance like they did with you? _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> sorry i used the word penchant
> 
> i cringed too
> 
> hope youre happy sunny
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated, come find me on tumblr -> @/suddenly-im-respecsable


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